Verbal Dog

My office is lonely today; the blankets under my desk are empty because "Daddy" stayed home and is working from home today. This means he got to keep our dog, Verbal, with him. I am so very fortunate to have been able to bring her to work with me every day since we opened the hospital 6 years ago. Not everyone is that lucky, for sure. There are a lot of pets who spend most days alone, waiting for their humans to come home, some for long hours at a time. Verbal occasionally stays home when my husband Michael stays home. Getting to play in the yard HAS to be more fun than sleeping under my desk. But after the past two days of over the top emotions, I really don't like those empty blankets.

How about I tell you a bit about my wonderful Verbal dog? Can you guess where her name comes from? While it is true that she is very talkative and has an opinion about everything, that isn't the reason for the name. When I brought her home as a 4-week old puppy, I thought it best to let Michael have a go at naming her. We had just bought our first home, and I had already brought home chickens and ducks and we were working on fencing to move our horse home. Our favorite movie at the time was "The Usual Suspects" with Kevin Spacey. He actually had two character names in that movie, and Keyser Soze just didn't fit a cute little girl puppy. His other name was "Verbal" Kint.

Yes, 4 weeks is way too young for a puppy to be leaving its mom and litter mates. She was actually brought into the clinic where I was working that year to be euthanized after her daddy dog mauled her for getting too close to his food bowl. She had a fractured jaw and her tongue was torn to the point that only a 1/4 inch strip of delicate tissue held it in place. Well, I could understand putting down an aggressive dog that would do such a thing to a helpless puppy, (would he hesitate if it was a young child, after all?) but certainly not the pup. The "breeder" (I use the term loosely as this was a cross-bred puppy, Labrador and Golden Retriever, where no health testing of the parent dogs had been done prior to breeding-more on that later) refused to spend any money on fixing the pup as they had 9 or 10 others at home and the costs seemed too much to them. Michael and I really had started talking about adding our first dog to our family, so I asked for these people to surrender the puppy to me so I could assume her care.

The owners of the clinic were great, big-hearted people and allowed the surgery to place a pin in her tiny jaw and attempt the re-attachment of that hanging tongue. I was really concerned about the nerve and blood supply, and because the tissue was so swollen, didn't think the sutures would hold very well. But young animals have special angels looking after them and my new puppy healed very quickly. Yes, to this day her tongue is a bit goofy, curling up to her ear when she yawns, and most of her water goes anywhere but in her mouth when she drinks (is that any different from most floppy-lipped dogs?) But it adds a bit of character to her big goofy smile, and boy does she have a great smile!

She was growing quickly and healing well, so about 10 days later we anesthetized her to remove the pin from her jaw. Her heart actually stopped during the procedure and required aggressive CPR and an injection of epinephrine or adrenaline right into the heart itself to get things started again. Obviously we were successful in getting her back, but the lack of oxygen to her brain resulted in her being blind for a full day and she was ataxic or wobbly for about a week after! It was awful; I was so in love with that little girl already and hated seeing her like that. Thank goodness it was a transitory thing, likely brought on by low blood sugar. We usually fast animals (withhold food) before surgery and in very young patients like her, probably should have shortened this time. I threatened her that she would never get anesthesia again, having to stand very still and suck it up when she was spayed (just kidding!)

So, as I mentioned, with no health testing of the parents, it was inevitable that the puppies of that litter were affected by serious issues such as hip and elbow dysplasia, orthopedic conditions where the joints don't form normally and result in painful motion. Verbal was actually "rabbit-hopping" to prevent that pain at 6 weeks of age-that's how bad her hips were! She had a femoral head and neck ostectomy (FHO) surgery to completely remove the ball from the ball and socket joint of her worse hip joint. It was a terrific "salvage" procedure for a bouncy, busy young puppy where confinement would really be an issue if we chose other types of surgery with lengthy "keep them quiet and off the leg" recoveries. Her strong muscles of the thigh are holding the joint together.

Verbal has been what I lovingly call my "genetic disaster" dog. Other than her routine spay at around 5 months of age and the FHO and jaw and tongue surgeries, she has had multiple surgeries on her legs, been treated for allergies in the form of skin and ear issues, and has had several dental procedures. A few of her permanent teeth were affected by the pin placed in the jaw and subsequently "died." I have always been a bit cautious about her temperament, especially around little dogs, since she has that genetic trait passed on from that "wonderful" daddy dog of hers. She has had numerous lumps and bumps, but two very serious cancerous masses where she had radiation therapy for one and radical surgical excision for the other.
She has been a trooper, going through all those anesthetic procedures and now managing her multi-modal analgesia (pain management) for pretty bad arthritis. Her remaining teeth are worn down from always chewing on tennis balls when she was younger. I learned all about that from a veterinary dentist when I noticed her teeth were gradually wearing down to the gum line. He told me tennis balls have silica in them, a very abrasive substance. So be warned about letting your tennis ball-obsessed dogs chew on those balls. It is fine to play fetch, just take them away after the game so they aren't worrying them and abrading their teeth away like Verbal did.

Verbal is 10 years old this year and is slowing down like older dogs do. Since I really thought each time she faced cancer that I would lose her, every extra day with her is a wonderful gift.
She puts up with the various cats and other critters I have brought into our lives at different times in her life. She doesn't have time for me to be sad, often coming to me and pushing my arm up with her big nose, telling me things will be fine. She loves to chase the chickens and rabbits in our big yard, never wanting to catch them, often just bouncing in place to try to get them to go so she can chase them again. She is such a happy dog, always having a stick or stuffed toy in her mouth when one is to be had. Can you tell how very much I love that goofy yellow dog? Aren't we all lucky to have these great friends in our lives?

Peace,
DrReneigh

Melancholoy

I have a heavy heart today and just can't shake it. Yesterday's post surely contributes to it, as you can imagine. Star's owners have been terrific. Didn't you just love that picture of her smiling in ecstasy for the camera, so content to be with her humans?

Another issue I've been debating about writing about (I don't want to hurt anyone by sharing MY feelings) came up yesterday and is looming large. We have a slow morning with only a few appointments so I am "dwelling." Not good. My best friend, Kristen, has an older dog, too. Vardaman has been her best friend for 15 1/2 years, a true tribute to her love and care. I met them as patient and client many years ago when a relief veterinarian accidentally gave him a vaccine that was meant to be given intranasally (drops in the nose itself) subcutaneously (under the skin) where the majority of vaccines are given. When I found out about the mistake, I researched and found that this could actually cause serious illness in some dogs, so got right on diagnostic and preventive care for her friend. It took some time and numerous follow up appointments where we actually learned we had much in common besides our obvious love of animals. Sometimes through adversity friendships can grow strong, as ours obviously did. Vardaman pulled through that episode with flying colors, thank goodness! Over the years, Vardaman had more than his share of ailments as he aged and, being the beloved pet of my best friend, I felt a great responsibility to keep him doing the best that he could. She was a devoted and knowledgeable pet owner, often making suggestions and researching supplements and medications and diets for him. I did the same, often consulting specialists and as a team, we kept Vardy pretty comfortable and happy.

Time has taken its toll as it will on all of us and yesterday he came in very sick from vomiting all weekend. We thought it could be a reaction to his numerous medications or suspected something worse due to his age. Unfortunately, we confirmed the worst with blood work and radiographs (x-rays) of his abdomen. Kristen loves him with all of her heart and above all does not want him to suffer. I love HER with all of my heart and don't want HER to hurt, but I know I can't stop that. Words like "don't worry" are pointless; of course she will worry about her buddy. He is currently at a referral hospital on IV fluids (my hospital is not staffed 24 hours) and being managed for his vomiting and pain and being given excellent care, but he isn't home with her, and that hurts. Due to his age and frailty, she doesn't want to put him through any extensive procedures, and even if she did, there would be no guarantees that would extend his life significantly. The choices are so hard to make, but since she knows him the best, it really is up to her to make them for him. I (and her referring doctors) can only give the medical information and advice at hand to help with those decisions. I believe we are going to try to get him "healthy" or at least strong enough to go home for a few days of normalcy, then make the decision to say goodbye in a peaceful setting at his home on the weekend.

There is something that has been bothering me, and I am hoping someone reading this (if I haven't totally bummed you all out over the past few days!) might be able to help me with. I know this is going to change my friend's and my relationship forever. I don't want her to remember me as "the one who killed her dog." You know by now after reading my blog for this long how important I believe this "gift" to be for our devoted pets. Ending suffering with dignity is something I do believe in and consider it my duty if not privilege to provide. But there is certainly a finality to it, and not everyone sees it as I do. I once drove over an hour to a friend's house to euthanize his 16 year old hound dog in the comfort of his house, it went as peacefully as you could wish, and he really never talked to me again. I would be devastated if that happened again. Then there is that tiny part of me that imagines the day when it will be my turn to say goodbye to my best friend, Verbal. Selfish, I know, but I am only human, and I love her more than is probably sane.

I could get a colleague to handle this particular situation for me, but that wouldn't be fair to my friend or the dog she loves so much. He has been MY patient and I take that very seriously. I'll pray about it and love on the new puppies and kittens scheduled to be seen this week. They are good therapy....they sure don't have time to be sad! I do love being a veterinarian, but some days are certainly harder than others. Thanks for "listening."

Peace,
DrReneigh

Our Perfect Companions Age Too Darned Fast!

I have a quote on the wall in my office...."Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet." -Colette, 1873-1954. (Guess we have to make an exception for Ricardo, the 3-legged cat, right?) My sister, Kristine, sent me the card with that thought on it. Thanks, K.

I'm writing this afternoon through tears, so forgive a typo or two. We had to say good bye to a true "perfect companion," Star, a lovely, dignified older greyhound with the best humans a pet could ever ask for. I have had the privilege of working with this great family for a while now, so this final visit when we all said good bye to our friend was especially hard, as any one who loves their pets like family members must imagine.

Star didn't have the dreaded cancer or kidney or liver failure or any other awful disease. She really was just old, and her poor weakened body couldn't keep up with her still alert mind. She wanted to go on those beloved walks with her humans, but those once graceful greyhound legs couldn't support her weight anymore, and she tired out after only a few steps. She had been stumbling and dragging her toes for quite some time now, and with the help of that multi-modal analgesia we talked about recently, she managed pain and weakness fairly well--up until this weekend, that is. Her owners knew it was time to let her give up the fight, and fight she did for quite a long time.

She did everything we asked, even when some of the medications we tried didn't quite suit her, she took the side-effects like a trooper, and recovered well when we quit those and tried something else. Her caring humans knew it wasn't fair to go to heroic measures for her; Star was tired. She passed peacefully this morning in the arms of her beloved humans. We can all wish to go that way. Good bye, Star. We will miss you.

My friend, Stacy, who is a veterinarian, too, sent me a little missive about living with dogs. I don't know who wrote it. Thought I'd share that with you now. What the heck, I'm already crying....

THE JOURNEY

When you bring a dog into your life, you begin a journey - a journey that will bring you more love and devotion than you have ever known, yet also test your strength and courage.

If you allow, the journey will teach you many things, about life, about yourself, and most of all, about love. You will come away changed forever, for one soul cannot touch another without leaving its mark.

Along the way, you will learn much about savoring life's simple pleasures - jumping in leaves, snoozing in the sun, the joy of puddles, and even the satisfaction of a good scratch behind the ears.

If you spend much time outside, you will be taught how to truly experience every element, for no rock, leaf or log will go unexamined, and no rustling bush will be overlooked. Your pace may be slower - except when heading home to the food dish - but you will become a better naturalist, having been taught by an expert in the field.

Too many times we hike on automatic pilot, our goal being to complete the trail rather than enjoy the journey. We miss the details - the colorful mushrooms on the rotting log, the honeycomb in the old maple snag, the hawk feather caught on a twig. Once we walk as a dog does, we discover a whole new world. We stop; we browse the landscape; we kick over leaves, peek in tree holes, look up, down, all around. And we learn what any dog knows: that nature has created a marvelously complex world that is full of surprises, that each cycle of the seasons brings ever-changing wonders, each day an essence all its own.

Even from indoors you will find yourself more attuned to the world around you. You will stop to observe the swirling dance of windblown leaves, or sniff the air after a rain. It does not matter that there is no objective in this; the point is in the doing, in not letting life's most important details slip by.

You will find yourself doing silly things that your pet-less friends might not understand: spending thirty minutes in the grocery aisle looking for the perfect doggie birthday treats, or driving around the block an extra time because your dog enjoys the ride. You will roll in the snow, wrestle with chewie toys, and bounce rubber balls till your eyes cross - all in the name of love.

Your house will become muddier and hairier. You will buy more lint rollers. You may find dog biscuits in your pocket or purse and find the need to explain. You will learn the true measure of love - the steadfast, undying kind that says, 'It doesn't matter where we are or what we do, or how life treats us as long as we are together.' Respect this always. It is the most precious gift any living soul can give another. You will not find it often among the human race.

And you will learn humility. If you pay attention and learn well, when the journey is done, you will not be just a better person, but the person your pet always knew you to be - the one they were proud to call beloved friend.

I must caution you that this journey is not without pain. Like all paths of true love, the pain is part of loving. For as surely as the sun sets, one day your dear companion will follow a path you cannot yet go down. And you will have to find the strength and love to let them go. A pet's time on earth is far too short - especially for those that love them. We borrow them, really, just for awhile, and during those brief years they are generous enough to give us all of their love - every inch of their spirit and heart, until one day there is nothing left.

The dog that only yesterday was a pup is all too soon old and frail. The youth with boundless energy wakes up stiff and lame, the muzzle now gray. Deep down we somehow always knew this journey would end. We knew that if we gave our hearts they would be broken. But give them we must for it is all they ask in return. When the time comes, and the road curves ahead to a place we cannot see, we give one final gift and let them run on ahead - young and whole once more.

'Godspeed, good friend,' we say, until our journey comes full circle and our paths cross.

Peace,
DrReneigh